


Inevitable

by tornyourdress



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-15
Updated: 2010-08-15
Packaged: 2017-10-11 02:37:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/107439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tornyourdress/pseuds/tornyourdress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's a troublemaker, that Granger girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Femslash Challenge](http://www.livejournal.com/community/pornish_pixies/81086.html) at [](http://community.livejournal.com/pornish_pixies/profile)[**pornish_pixies**](http://community.livejournal.com/pornish_pixies/).

She's a troublemaker, that Granger girl. Easy to tell that she comes from a Muggle family; she's far too cynical and demanding of scientific proof to have been brought up in a wizard family. You're surprised she hasn't had similar problems with the other members of the staff – oh, you've heard complaints, all right, but none that compare to what you had to go through, the utter disdain that she has for you.

Yes, you hear the whispers and mutters and murmurs from the students sometimes, and there was that horrible business with Umbridge last year – you're thoroughly delighted she got what was coming to her, though of course you knew it was inevitable – but never, _never_ have you had a student like Miss Granger.

You don't teach her anymore, of course – she walked out, and for that you are grateful, because the knowledge that she would leave kept you from slapping her impertinent face – but when you see her around the school, you can feel the contempt radiating from her.

One day, it becomes too much. It has been a hard day. Minerva has been exceptionally brusque with you today, and the sixth years are terribly rowdy. Potter and Weasley rarely devote their full attention to you anyway, but even your favourite students, like Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, those _dedicated_ girls, have been distracted and giggling about boys and clothes instead of concentrating on advanced dream interpretation.

Miss Granger, walking the halls with Potter and Weasley, laughing at something they have said, and you know, you _know_ that they are relating some kind of amusing anecdote about your class.

It's so easy for her, isn't it? So easy for her to dismiss your life's work, your Gift, simply because she doesn't possess it, because it isn't something that she can learn by picking up a book and memorising passages. Oh, you understand Miss Granger all right, you understand her far better than she realises.

You call her aside, not sure what you're doing until you have her back in your classroom, your safe little tower room that you know she despises, and then you see it all, know what you're going to do before you even make your first move, and kiss her.

She is struggling against you, but you know that no one will hear the muffled screams. You murmur "Silencio" anyway, and take her wand from her before she has a chance to try and counter it. Better that she isn't allowed to speak. She talks far too much as it is.

Down on the floor now, and still she continues to fight you. Your mouth on hers, and it feels as though you are stealing her voice with your greedy kisses. That blouse torn open, and your hands on her breasts, firm and young and beautiful. Such an attractive body for someone who is so ugly inside, you think.

She struggles still, but when your fingers stroke her nipples, and they harden, you note that her mouth makes a certain movement and you know that if she hadn't been silenced by you already, there would be a whimpering noise coming from her now. The thought of that delights you, but you are satisfied with the other physical responses, the way she bites her lip as you trace your way up her thighs with your other hand. Such pretty soft skin, you notice. Oh, to be sixteen again, to be this beautiful, to believe that you alone can change the world, the way Miss Granger seems to.

You wonder if she has ever had a moment of self-doubt in her entire life. You smile, then, because you know that what she doubts now is her judgement, her foolishness, her inability to escape this trap. She should have known, you think, but of course, now, she couldn't have, because she does not possess the Inner Eye.

You can feel the wetness between her thighs, and you contemplate stopping now, leaving her like this. You wonder what she wants. She is trembling, but whether it's from fear or desire, or a mixture of both, you're not sure.

She sees that you are wavering, and makes another attempt to break free, to push you away and to escape down the ladder and back to her life. The little idiot, you think. She has made your decision for you, and without any further hesitation you plunge two fingers inside her, and she squeezes her eyes closed. She is hot and wet but oh so _tight_ \- she hasn't been touched like this before, you realise, has never had anyone inside her. Your fingers move in and out and your thumb circles her clit, and her hips are jerking off the floor, all for you.

Now she believes that you have power, now she takes you seriously, now that you have her on the floor hot and flushed and sweaty and with her mouth open in a silent moan as your slick fingers move quickly, bringing her to climax, and _that_ is why you have brought her here, that moment where she is yours and you have her completely in your power.

You remove your fingers, wet and bloodied, and bring them to her mouth. She tries once more to struggle, but you force them between her lips, and she bites down hard. Foolish, foolish girl. You slap her across the face.

It is only then that her eyes begin to fill with tears, and her lips are forming the words that the spell will not let her say aloud. "Please stop, please . . ."

She is begging. You smile. This is the moment you have wanted to experience, the begging for mercy rather than determination to fight against you. The giving up. You will let her go soon, but you want to treasure this for another while yet.

It was inevitable that this would happen, sooner or later. The Gift never lies. You want to tell her that, as she sobs soundlessly, but you think that maybe she knows now, maybe now she finally understands.  



End file.
